


Something Like Chutney

by Tallulah_Rasa



Series: Something Like Home [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Some angst, Stranded, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah_Rasa/pseuds/Tallulah_Rasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stranded off-world, Jack, Sam, and Daniel try to build new lives for themselves, with varying degrees of success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Chutney

**Author's Note:**

> In 2005, when I wrote this, it appeared to be a possible future for Jack, Sam, and Daniel. (Teal'c wasn't involved, as he was off visiting his son.) Despite mention of a couple of marriages-- one happy, one not -- this isn't a relationship story, but largely a character study of Jack. That being said...if you're a Jack/Sam shipper, you should know that they don't live happily ever after here. Sorry. If it helps, there's a sequel, and everyone ends up finding their place in life, though Jack and Sam still don't end up together.
> 
> Thanks to Roslyn and the Beneficial Nematodes.

Teal'c had gone to see Ry'ac, and though Sam and Daniel could have gone by themselves-- hell, it was the Land of the Light, safer than going to O'Malley's-- Jack decided at the last minute to tag along. He was the General, he could take off the afternoon if he wanted to. And anyway, a quickie diplomatic check-in with people in funny hats was a whole lot more appealing than another meeting with Siler and his crew over the SGC's ongoing plumbing problems.

But then the Gate malfunctioned, and they ended up gating through to some place that definitely wasn't the Land of the Light. They never found out where it was, because whoever lived there took one look at them, and then there was a flash, and then they were lying on their backs on a very nice, very green and pleasant world that was also, most definitely, not the Land of the Light.

And also, it turned out, not a world with a Stargate.

The natives were friendly, so that was something to be thankful for. The climate was mild, and food wasn't a problem. The world was mostly ocean, with a tiny landmass that held a handful of widely-spaced, peaceful settlements. The town they landed in was small and close-knit, the way Jack imagined prairie towns were in the early 1800's. That seemed about the time-frame for the technology, too-- people and animals did the labor, light came from the sun and the moons and candles, entertainment meant games and story-telling. It reminded Jack of Edora, except this time he didn't start out alone.

Daniel learned the language quickly, and the people, dark-haired and blue-eyed, warmed to him immediately. Daniel said it was cultural, _of course_ they would take in strangers, bur Jack wondered if they would have been so kind if it had just been him and Carter. He didn't think so; being stranded didn't bring out the best in either of them. Daniel, though, was full of "Look at this!" and a strangely optimistic curiosity, and he ran to help right away when a lightening strike sent the town elder's barn up in flames.

Jack thought at first Daniel just didn't get it, but of course he did; he grasped the implications even before Sam. That's why he tried so hard to make a place for himself in the town's life, why he separated himself from Jack and Sam early on, why he told the people of the town that Jack and Sam were a couple, and that he was on his own. When Jack finally realized what Daniel was doing it was too late, but he was furious, anyway. He never stopped to wonder why.

Daniel was calm in the face of Jack's rage. "Look, I know you'd never set things up this way yourself," he said, placating, earnest, bent on explaining the obvious. "You'd feel too guilty, because you're the leader, and you're responsible for me. But let's face it, we're here, probably for good, and there's no reason for you to live with that kind of responsibility here. I know you and Sam could never have had this, before. But now we're here, and you can. And it's what you've wanted, I think-- what you've both wanted, what you've both always wanted. And it's okay. I'm fine, and I want you to be happy. So stop worrying, okay? For as long as we're here, stop worrying, and have what you want, and be happy."

Jack stayed furious, but the town thought of them as a couple. There was no getting around it, especially since neither he nor Sam had made much headway with the language. They two of them were ceremoniously presented with a small log cabin, with two rooms and a wood stove. The previous owner had just died, and his daughter and her husband had already built a home of their own. Daniel was taken in by an older couple with extra room, a large field to plow, and an urge to learn English. There didn't seem to be anything Jack could do about any of it; like being shoved into an active Stargate, there was nothing to do but try to land on his feet.

He glowered at Daniel a lot, anyway. Daniel didn't seem to notice, though from time to time he said, "I know this is hard for you. It's not your fault that we're here, but I know you feel that way. And I know you miss--everything. I understand."

That made Jack even more furious. He didn't ask himself why.

Jack and Sam kept their own little homestead going, but they didn't enter into the life of the town at all. Sam spent all her free time trying to figure out a way home. Jack made sure never to have any free time. Neither of them learned the language. Daniel told the town Jack and Sam were grieving, and one warm evening the town council came by and, with Daniel sheepishly translating, offered to hold a mourning rite to help them with their loss. Daniel described it for them, the ritual and the meaning behind it and the sense of community. Jack knew they meant well; he said he and Sam would talk it over.

The talk was short. "I can't do that," Sam said. "It wouldn't feel right. No one died."

"Okay," Jack said. He didn't want to take them up on the offer, either. He wasn't grieving what he'd lost, but what he'd been stuck with. And he could hardly say that, could he? And he couldn't be mad at Daniel for not seeing it, though he was. If Daniel could root around and dig up old things and explain _them_ , how hard could it be for him to see the obvious?

And it was obvious, Jack saw now, when it was too late to do any good. He had never really wanted to be with Carter. He had just _wanted_ her. What she'd wanted, he had no idea, but he was pretty sure it wasn't _this_. This was life stripped bare; nothing to noodle on in a lab, no machinery to reverse engineer, no mission to discuss. Just them, the two of them, and another thing Jack was pretty sure about was that Carter had never taken into account what Jack was actually like: the man, as opposed to the man leading the team.

They were wildly unhappy together, totally unsuited. And it wasn't Daniel's fault, but it was, because only Daniel would have thought that a mostly-suppressed, mostly-unspoken longing was the same thing as love. Only Daniel would have sacrificed his own well-being to make sure his teammates could have a happily-ever-after. And only Daniel could have missed that happily-ever-after was turning out to be damned unhappy.

Jack was angry at himself, angry at Daniel, angry at the world. He knew he was being hell to live with. Carter-- he couldn't stop calling her Carter-- was frustrated and bored. Their new world had no technology and precious little science. There was nothing for her to do except chores, and no one even wanted them automated. It wasn't that women were second-class citizens on this world. It was just that there was no place in this world for the things that mattered the most to her. And _he_ had no place for those things, either-- no interest in science talk, no easy way to express compassion for her frustration. Daniel was the one for that, and he scrupulously kept away, giving them the useless gift of time alone.

The townspeople were kind, and they didn't keep away. They brought food, and quilts with odd designs, and sympathetic smiles. They couldn't commiserate with Jack missing the Simpsons and hockey, though, even if they'd spoken his language. And neither could Sam.

That was Daniel's job, too, but obviously he hadn't noticed _that_ , either.

Daniel, meanwhile, was integrating just fine. When he wasn't in the fields or wielding a hammer or a saw, he went from house to house collecting the world's stories and myths. Though he was appropriately subdued when reporting back that no story, no word, even hinted that a Stargate had ever existed on this world, Jack thought that underneath Daniel was bubbling over with the richness of so many new things to learn. He thought Daniel was happy. He was wrong.

Daniel's allergies bothered him, so when the traveling healer finally came to town he went to see her. She wasn't all that young, Jack thought, or all that beautiful, but she was clearly smart and spirited, and Daniel said she had a good sense of humor.

She stayed in town for a while, and for a while more, and then Jack saw what happy and Daniel really looked like together. Daniel asked Jack to be best man at the wedding. Jack didn't want to, because he didn't feel like the best of anything. He hemmed and hawed, and Daniel beamed, and Jack found himself bringing up Sha're.

Before he could apologize, Daniel was saying, "I know. But I told her about it, about probably not being able to have children, and she said it was okay. She thought taking on her job, her life, meant giving up the chance for that kind of life, anyway, so she's okay with just me." And Daniel looked so happy and so grateful, and Jack couldn't speak. _That's_ what Daniel thought of him-- that he'd meant _that_?

"And I know my track record's not so good," Daniel said in a rush. "But for however long we have, well, you have to take your chance when it comes, right? That's what I learned from you and Sam. Look how long _you_ had to wait -- you might have had to wait forever. But then, things changed, and there was a way for you to be together. Maybe that's why we ended up here, so you could be together, and I could meet  Ani. Because nothing's worth more than--" he gestured around, and his face said _love, home, family_ , "this. But you know that."

It was an amazing place, Daniel's mind.

Weddings were a big deal in the community. Divorce was a taboo; the community's stability depended on everyone making a commitment and sticking with it. Jack was stuck with Sam, and she was stuck with him. They didn't talk about it. What was there to say? It was clear they didn't work, on any level. The sex had been awkward and uncomfortable from the start; too much was riding on it, though Jack suspected that there would never have been a "right" place or time. Now, at his age, it was harder to get and stay enthused, and Carter's passions weren't the kind that led to either spontaneity or laughter. To be fair, age was affecting her, too. She was moody and irritable, and sometimes had hot flashes Jack wasn't supposed to mention.

But Daniel-- without coffee, without chocolate, without his books-- radiated happiness the way this godforsaken world's two moons radiated light on a clear night.

Jack and Sam joined in when the community put up a cabin for Daniel and his bride-to-be, and they both stood up for him at the wedding. Ani looked at Jack strangely, he thought. He wondered if she knew, if she saw what Daniel wasn't made to see. She never said anything. He tried not to be around her too much.

Daniel told them that Ani would go back to making her rounds again, healing one far-flung town after another, and that of course he would go with her. Apparently there were ruins of some sort on the outskirts of the farthest town, though Jack knew Daniel would go anyway, and would find a way to be useful and satisfied. They planned to go after the planting season, but by then Ani was pregnant. Jack thought if Daniel kept smiling that way his face would break. It was lucky his wife was a doctor.

They had a boy. Jack and Sam sat a mile apart at the naming ceremony, though for appearances sake they sat side by side. Back at their cabin-- Jack never called it "home"-- Sam cried. Jack stood awkwardly for a minute or two, wondering if he should say something, but then he went outside and chopped so much wood there was no place to store it all. He gave some of it away later, to the old couple who'd first taken Daniel in.

Daniel came by to see Jack one night. Sam was at a council meeting, presenting her ideas to improve the design of the communal grain storage facility. The baby, three months old, was sleeping in a sling across Daniel's chest.

"I didn't think you'd desert us," Jack said before Daniel could say _We're_ _leaving at sunrise,_ or, even worse, _goodbye_. He thought he should be angry, but he wasn't. He wondered why.  "Seeing as how you're our translator."

"You do fine with the language," Daniel said amiably, shifting the baby a little so he could see his son's small pink face. "Soon you'll be teaching the history of "The Simpsons" in an adult ed class. And anyway, most of the town knows some English now. You and Sam will be fine."

"We--" Jack began, not knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"I love Ani," Daniel interrupted gently. "She loves me. I'm happy, really. You don't have to worry about me, I'm okay. And you'll be fine here. You have Sam, and she has you. That's the important thing."

The baby woke up a little then, and started to cry.

"I should go," Daniel said, getting up. He turned for the door, one arm cradling the baby. "I'll see you soon."

"Ralph Ellison," Jack said before he could stop himself.

And of course Daniel stopped and turned back, frowning. "You're not invisible, Jack," he said, because of course Daniel would understand. Except he didn't, because Jack knew Daniel wasn't really seeing him anymore, wasn't really ever going to _see_ him again.

"I'll be back," Daniel said. "And then you and I will probably see each other every day for the rest of our lives."

"Oh, hell," Jack said.

But Daniel misunderstood that, too. He kind of laughed, and shrugged, and said, "Or we could get rescued, still. It could happen."

"It won't matter," Jack said. Years ago, when they were all still new to each other, the team had gone out for dinner. Daniel had insisted on Indian, and while they were waiting for the food Jack had looked across the table at Teal'c and known -- just _known_ \--that  Teal'c wouldn't like chutney. Jack changed seats with Daniel, and sure enough, when the food came, Teal'c sprayed a mouthful of chutney across the table. Daniel had gone so far as to accuse Jack of planning the whole thing. But no, sometimes the pieces were just there, and Jack could see the future unfold in its inevitable way.

"Why won't it matter?" Daniel asked. The baby had settled down again, and Daniel was unconsciously rocking back and forth, the way Jack had long ago with Charlie in his arms.

"You told me something once," Jack said. "We were on P3-something, I don't know, and it was late, and you were telling me about the inscriptions you'd found, and how they reminded you of something a poet wrote. He'd left his whole life behind, and gone off somewhere to start a new life somewhere else."

"Um, Rimbaud, " Daniel said. "He left France, and went to Africa." The baby hiccupped, and Daniel rubbed his back. "He went to get away from people's expectations of him, I think, of people thinking they knew who he was. He said, 'I is someone else.' "

"Yeah," Jack said. Daniel was looking down at the baby, but Jack was looking at Daniel.

"This is just a transition, Jack," Daniel said without looking up. "Like going through the Stargate, in a way-- going from where you were, to where you're going to be. And this time we weren't prepared, but maybe we never were. Anyway, you've been doing first contact for years. It's just that this time the person you're meeting is you."

Jack shook his head. "No, that's-- and anyway, it's you who--"

"The Asgard? When you had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into your head?"

"Well, okay," Jack said after a minute. "Maybe then."

"I can stay," Daniel said. "If you want, I'll stay."

Daniel was already gone, Jack thought. But he'd been gone before, and he'd managed to come back. "Have a good trip," he said.

Daniel smiled. "If Teal'c shows up with the cavalry while I'm gone\-- "

"We'll wait for you," Jack said. "Car-- Sam and I will keep him occupied till you get back. We'll show him the sights, tell him about your wedding, take him to the dining hot spots." He smiled himself, then. "It's a good thing they don't have Indian food here."

Daniel was at the door, tucking a tiny blanket around his son. The baby sighed and Jack could feel Daniel's heart swell in time with his own.

"Actually," Daniel said, "Teal'c got to like Indian food after a while. Even chutney, if you can believe it."

"Seriously?"

"Things change," Daniel said. "But it turns out that they're the little things, not the important ones." He smiled at Jack, the way he had a hundred times before. "But I guess we both already knew that."

"Yeah," Jack said. "We did."

END

**Author's Note:**

> Rimbaud was a prodigy, a poet who wowed Paris in the late 1800's and then turned his back on fame, art and Europe. Ralph Ellison wrote, "The Invisible Man", which was probably on the reading list when Jack was in school. It's not the Fawkes-Hobbes kind of invisibility; the book is about race and society.


End file.
